


The Other One

by Leloi



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Inseperable Movie, M/M, The Pretty One Movie, Twin Replacement, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 00:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2408267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leloi/pseuds/Leloi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You never told me you had a twin brother.”  John stated as he stared up at the ceiling.  </p><p>“I didn’t?”  William made a face at the same ceiling.</p><p>“You told me you lost a sibling.  I didn’t know he was your twin.  What was he like?  Not like Mycroft I hope…” John smirked and rolled over to wrap his arm around William’s waist.</p><p>“No… He was much, much different than Mycroft.  He was my identical twin.”</p><p>“What was his name?”  </p><p>“Sherlock…” William answered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other One

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for Character Death.
> 
> Benny has a movie called "Inseperable." I recently watched another movie called "The Pretty One" about identical twins in which the outgoing, popular twin dies and the other takes her sister's place without anyone knowing. I thought I would combine the two. That... And "Pretty One's" ending left me unsatisfied.

“You never told me you had a twin brother.” John stated as he stared up at the ceiling. 

“I didn’t?” William made a face at the same ceiling.

“You told me you lost a sibling. I didn’t know he was your twin. What was he like? Not like Mycroft I hope…” John smirked and rolled over to wrap his arm around William’s waist.

“No… He was much, much different than Mycroft. He was my identical twin.”

“What was his name?” 

“Sherlock…” William answered.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“No… It’s alright… He wasn’t like me. He was a philosopher… A poet. He could do the… Deductive thing, but not like his brothers.”

“Mm…” John hummed as he rested his head on William’s shoulder.

“John?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you like me?”

“We just had mind blowing sex…” John chuckled softly.

“I know… But do you like me?”

“Is this because of the amnesia?” John sat up a bit to stare down at the detective.

William blinked a few times and nodded. “I don’t remember… Was I ever affectionate?”

John smiled and shook his head. “No. You didn’t do affection.” Adjusting himself, he lay back down. “It’s almost like you’re a different person.”

William flinched.

^.~

“William!” Sherlock greeted his twin as he swept through the door. “You’re late.”

“Maybe you’re early.” William challenged.

“I live here.”

“So you never left. It doesn’t count…” William entered the living room and greeting his parents. “Mum, father.”

“Happy birthday!” Mummy greeted and attempted to catch William’s face to kiss him. 

“Where’s Mycroft?” William asked as he stepped away to escape her grasp. 

“Where do you think I am?” Mycroft asked as he stepped out of the kitchen.

“Guarding the cake, I see.” William smirked.

“Where is your friend, Will?” Mummy asked. “I thought you would bring him along.”

“Yes, how is your John?” Sherlock asked eagerly.

“Do tell…” Mycroft mused from his place in the kitchen door.

“As it happens he has a date. I did not want to bother him with something as trivial as this.” William answered, looking around the room at his family.

“William didn’t tell him his birth date.” Mycroft announced smugly. “Poor John is oblivious. They’ve been living together since Bonfire Night, two months ago, and Will never told him.”

“That’s horrible!” Sherlock stated, looking around the room for confirmation. “He’s your friend, Will…”

William shrugged off their concern. “There are other birthdays. I barely even know him.”

“John saved Will’s life… Shot a man who threatened to kill him.” Mycroft announced.

“Oh, Will!” Mummy cried, clutching her hands together. “And you can’t invite him?”

“He’s on a date!” William responded, annoyed with the room. “Let’s get this party over with.”

^.~

“Have you thought about living in London?” William asked as he stood outside, smoking with his twin.

“London? Like where you and Mycroft live?” Sherlock asked, waving his cigarette smoke away. “Why would I do that?”

“Why stay here? Everyone else has moved on.”

“Mummy and Da are still here.” Sherlock responded, taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Mum and father would like you to have a life of your own.” William countered.

“I have a life!” Sherlock responded. “I… Write.”

William shook his head. “Are you published?”

Sherlock frowned and bit his lip. “I’m… Not ready.”

“Come to London with me. If you don’t like it you can always return here… Although I don’t know why you’d want to.” William looked about the dreary garden.

Sherlock dropped his cigarette and stubbed it out with his shoe. “I’ve always wanted to see the city.”

“It’s settled then. You can drive back with me tomorrow.”

Sherlock gave his twin a shy smile.

^.~

The brunette opened his eyes, the ceiling swirled above him and he had difficulty focusing. There were voices, familiar and yet… Not? Movement by his bed and a man with an umbrella stared down at him. 

“William?” 

Was that his name? William? William blinked a few times to make the room stop spinning. 

A complicated look passed over the man’s face and he stepped closer. “There’s been an accident, William. You were taking Sherlock with you to London. Do you remember?”

Vaguely he recalled a planned trip. “Sherlock?” 

The man bit his lips, pain passing over his face. “He’s dead, Will. Sherlock is dead.”

No… That couldn’t be right. Could it? They were twins… 

“What do you remember, Will?” The man queried.

They had spoken of someone… “John…” William answered. Closing his eyes he fell back asleep.

^.~

Several days passed. 

The funeral was small. Sherlock had very few friends in the town he grew up in. No one spoke a word. William watched the casket being lowered when a memory flashed. William had asked him to go to London with him… That meant… No! Sherlock suddenly realized the body in the casket was William. Looking around the group of disinterested mourners it was clear no one else knew. Except maybe Mycroft…

“What is it?” Mycroft asked, reaching out to touch Sherlock’s arm. 

“They’re wrong…” Sherlock whispered back. “That’s not…”

“Would anyone like to share any memories of the departed?” The vicar’s voice interrupted Sherlock’s whispers.

The group was silent. 

Sherlock looked from face to face, people he had known his entire life had nothing to say. It hurt to watch them. No one knew him… No one cared. William was important… He solved crime. What did Sherlock do? Panicked, he looked to his parents but neither one of them commented, their eyes on the hole in the ground.

Hurt by their indifference, Sherlock left the group and headed back towards the cars. As he approached the car he had arrived in Mycroft caught up with him. 

“What were you going to say?” Mycroft demanded, panting.

“What does it matter?” Sherlock snapped. “It’s not like any of them care.”

“That’s unfair.” Mycroft responded. “They are mourning!”

“No they aren’t… Not one of them gives a flying fig about me…”

Mycroft crossed his arms over his chest and looked over Sherlock. “It’s you, isn’t it? Sherlock? That’s Will in the casket.”

Sherlock frowned and stared down at his hands. 

Mycroft sighed heavily. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I only just remembered.” Sherlock answered. “As they were lowering the casket I remembered who I was.”

“Damnit… William…” Mycroft rubbed his face. “This complicates things.”

“Gee… Thanks a lot…” Sherlock muttered and continued towards the cars.

“Wait!” Mycroft called and caught up. “They think you’re William.”

“So?” Sherlock challenged.

“You could be William.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“A lot of people relied on Will… If you took his place they would never know he was gone.”

“They will notice. We may be identical but we are different.”

“We’ll say it’s amnesia then… That you don’t remember how you were before the accident.” Mycroft answered.

“That’s stupid! No one would buy it!” Sherlock snorted.

“Sherlock… They all think you’re William.” Mycroft indicated the group leaving the grave behind them. “You could BE William.”

“I can’t…” Sherlock shook his head. “Will was clever like you… I’m not clever.”

“I don’t believe that. You just never gave yourself the chance. Think about it. Do you want to tell them they buried the wrong twin? We can tell them right now…”

Sherlock watched the group cross the cemetery, coming towards them. “No… No… I’ll do it. I’ll be Will. His life was important… Not like mine.”

Mycroft made a frustrated noise. “It’s best we leave now to return to London.”

“Return? I’ve never even been!” Sherlock responded.

“Amnesia, William… You’ve forgotten London.”

^.~

“Where have you been?” A blonde man demanded. Anger and hurt were in his eyes as he stood, facing William and Mycroft, fists clenched. “Not a word! I’ve been worried sick!”

William took a step back. Perhaps he should come clean right then and tell this man that his roommate was dead. But then he would be offended that he hadn’t been invited to the funeral…

“William was in a car crash.” Mycroft stated.

The man immediately shifted into a concerned look. “Car crash? You were in a car crash?” Worry crossed his face.

William desperately wanted to tell him that his concerns were well founded… That the real William was dead. This William was an imposter.

“He has amnesia, John.” Mycroft said.

“Amnesia?” John took a closer look at William.

“He doesn’t remember anything from the past several months. He barely even remembers his own name.” Mycroft informed John.

“Brain swelling? What is he doing out of hospital? Mycroft, you could have left him in hospital and contacted me.” John took several steps closer to William, looking him over with a practiced eye. “What’s the last thing you remember? Do you know who I am?”

“My roommate, John.” William answered. “Mycroft told me that.”

“We’ve been living together for just about two months. It’s January now.”

“I know it’s January…” William smiled at John. There was something about John that he really liked. The care and concern in the man’s eyes made his insides flutter. William never even hinted at the fact that his roommate was handsome.

“You should know, John… We lost a sibling in that car crash.” Mycroft informed John.

John’s eyes went wide and he checked William’s reaction.

William shifted his attention to the floor, looking down at his own feet wearing his brother’s shoes.

“William probably won’t be himself for quite some time. You will have to be patient with him. He may have to relearn his deduction technique. Have you kept notes? I can look over the current cases. I don’t advise him returning to work at least until he gets more of his memory back.”

William frowned at Mycroft’s instructions. How was he supposed to “remember” something he never learned? Deduction was Mycroft and William’s trick, not Sherlock’s. True, he had attempted it when they grew up together as children, but he was out of practice once his brothers moved out.

“I have his latest notes over here…” John crossed the room to pick up a pile of papers from a cluttered table. Idly William wondered who was responsible for the state of the table… Probably his brother. William had always been a bit of a slob. “Here you go.” John passed the papers to Mycroft. “I can take some time off to monitor him…”

“That shouldn’t be necessary. Leave him with a box of files. It might spark a memory.” Mycroft answered as he headed for the door. “Good luck, William.” And with that he was gone, leaving William alone with a stranger. 

But he wasn’t really a stranger… This was his brother’s roommate. What had William said about him? Oh yes… He was a former soldier and a doctor. John had a nice smile that made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

“Are you alright?” John asked cautiously. 

“I’m fine.” William answered.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” John stated.

William nodded.

^.~

William spent the days going through a box of files and texting Mycroft to test his deductive skills. It had been a long time since his brothers encouraged his skills and they were rusty. During the day he read and studied harder than he ever had at university… Somehow he had to fill the role of William before anyone figured out he was an imposter. 

John went to work at a clinic during the day. When he came home at night he liked to watch telly. William sat with him, trying not to let John catch him staring. But John often did. “What are you looking at?”

“You.” William answered with a smile before returning his attention to the telly.

“Will… You’ve been… Different.”

“Different good or different bad?” William asked.

John shook his head. “Just different. You never used to like to watch telly with me. You said it was a waste of time and intelligence.”

“Sounds like something I would say…” William muttered, thinking of his brother’s disregard for frivolous pastimes. 

“And yet you willingly do it now. Why?”

William shrugged. “I like spending time with you?” It came out as a question rather than a statement. 

John blinked, his mouth open in surprise. It immediately made William nervous.

“Don’t act surprised. You’re a nice bloke. I can’t help liking you.”

“We talked about this, Will…”

“Did we?” William asked.

“You led me to believe you didn’t do relationships.”

His brother had never had a relationship… Never even wanted one. Sherlock had dated at university… Mostly other men. “Things change.”

“Do they?” John queried.

“Yes… They do.” William replied and leaned in to press a quick, chaste kiss to John’s cheek before getting up from the couch and making a retreat for his bedroom. Let John ponder THAT!

^.~

The Blind Banker case happened. Blind Banker was the title John gave it for his blog. Really William felt blind himself, stumbling around London as he second guessed every single move. It was his first case as William solo. A month reading case files and Mycroft deemed him worthy enough to fill his dead brother’s shoes. Somehow he and John had managed not to get killed. William was more inclined to think it was all beginner’s luck. 

The name “Moriarty” startled John.

“Who?” William asked.

“It’s a name we keep hearing. They are connected to all these cases.” John responded. 

William passed on the information to Mycroft in his daily emails. The texting had graduated to emails because William found he had much to say to his elder brother. Mostly they were complaints about the difficulty of the case. Mycroft never responded except in simple emoji that William found he resented. Why had he allowed Mycroft to talk him into becoming William?

“You were on a date…” William commented as he read through John’s narration of the case. 

“Yeah…”

Something clenched in William’s chest and he frowned. Jealousy. John didn’t seem to react to William’s flirtations. Now he knew the reason why. There was a serious girlfriend. “What is her name?”

“Sara.” John answered.

“Sara.” William echoed. Such a boring name… “She seemed nice.” William murmured, finishing the blog entry and turning off the computer.

“She is nice.” John replied. 

“Have you shagged her yet?” William asked, and then added under his breath. “Yes, of course you have.”

“That’s none of your business.” John answered.

William turned to stare at John. “It’s not.”

“No… It’s really not.” John swallowed hard and looked down at his hands. “Was the blog any good?”

“Yes.” William answered.

John bit his lips as he pondered something. “It’s been two months and your personality is still off.”

“It may never come back.”

“You act like… You’re jealous.”

“I am.” Sherlock answered simply.

“But you’ve never been jealous before…”

“Maybe I have and I never let you know.”

John shook his head in denial. “You’ve changed, Will. You don’t insult me or anyone else as you used to. You’re even nice to Anderson. It’s creeping him out.”

“I can’t help it.” William answered.

“I know… I’m sorry for bringing it up.” John got up from his seat and headed into the kitchen, leaving William alone to his thoughts.

^.~

And then the bombings started. 

William stumbled from clue to clue. This person that called themselves Moriarty was sick and demented. Who used people as pawns? 

Finally he made contact and promised to meet Moriarty at the pool. William was not prepared for John to step out of the changing rooms. John had gone on another date. Why was he there? Why was he wearing that god-awful coat?

A breathless standoff later and Moriarty retreated, called away by someone on his mobile. It was just brief contact for him to wave hello and establish that he really was in charge of the situation. Then a quick retreat. 

William stripped off the coat filled with explosives and tossed it into the pool for good measure. His knees felt weak and he collapsed before John’s feet. This was too much. William’s life was too much for him to handle. There was a moment when he was certain he almost got John killed. Feeling a hand on his head he looked up to see John look down at him, eyes full of concern. William’s fingers reached up and fumbled with the button and zip of John’s trousers. 

John did not comment and did not pull away as his trousers and pants were pulled halfway down his thighs.

William pulled John’s hips closer and took John into his mouth. John was bigger than Victor Trevor had been… Cleaner. His hands desperately pulled John closer as he began to throat John’s length, his mouth stretched from the other man’s girth.

“Bloody hell…” John murmured, his voice echoing from the concrete walls. His feet stumbled as he fought to keep his balance. His hands rested on William’s head in an attempt to anticipate the movements and compensate so he wasn’t knocked over. 

William pulled off, panting for breath. “Lay down.”

Immediately John obeyed, finding himself staring up at the ceiling with his trousers around his knees. “This isn’t the best place for this…”

William frowned at him and immediately swallowed John’s length again down to the base.

“Anyone can come in…” 

William pulled off and stared up at John, his voice raw from swallowing. “Then cum quickly.” Immediately his mouth returned and he added a fist so his tongue could concentrate on John’s glans. 

John cried out, his feet attempting to move, but pinned down by William’s body. “I’m close…”

William squeezed the base and suckled at the head until he felt the warm, salty bitterness on his tongue. Swallowing, he tried to commit the flavor to memory. John… Wonderful John. John who was only alive because a madman allowed it. Kissing John’s softening cock he rested his head on the other man’s belly, covering his nakedness with his own body.

“What was that for?” John asked quietly.

“For surviving.” William answered.

“Surviving?”

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” William breathed, rubbing his forehead against John’s belly.

“Don’t want to do what?”

“Survival…” William answered. “It’s not fair that he died.”

“Who? Your sibling?” John looked down at the man atop him. “Will? Did what happened with Moriarty trigger memories from the accident? Can you remember?”

“He was my twin.”

John sat up, nearly dislodging William from his lap. “You lost your twin? In the accident?”

“Yes.” William answered, wrapping his arms around John’s waist. “Let’s go home. I want to continue this in bed with you.”

John placed his hand atop William’s curly hair. “I don’t know if we should… You need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk. I want to have sex with you.”

John bit his lips and nodded.

^.~

They made love. It wasn’t like anything Sherlock had experienced before. With Victor Trevor it had been about Trevor’s pleasures and needs. And yet Sherlock couldn’t help but feel cheated that this was William’s experience and not his own. John was a thoughtful lover. His warm, tight grip on an aching cock felt wonderful… And the noises the former military doctor made as he approached orgasm thrilled the brunette to his core. It wasn’t fair that it was William’s name on John’s lips when he ejaculated yet again. 

In the afterglow of sex they lay curled together.

“What was his name?” John asked.

“Sherlock…” William answered.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” 

They continued until one or both of them dozed off. In the morning William woke to John’s cries of alarm.

“What is it?” William asked, opening his eyes.

John’s finger probed a spot near his left hip. “It’s gone.”

“What’s gone?”

“Your scar.” John answered, poking again, as if his finger could reveal what he was looking for.

“What scar?” 

“You have a scar right here! It happened when you… You… Fuck!” John jumped out of the bed and moved as far away as he could. “You’re not William.”

Sherlock stared at John for a long time before glancing down at where his own hip was unblemished. “William died.”

John shook his head and stepped blindly back, reaching the door. “Who are you?”

“I would think that is obvious.” Sherlock answered. “We’re identical.”

“No, you’re not!” John opened the door and passed through, slamming it behind him. 

^.~

“John knows…” Sherlock whispered into his mobile, curled up naked on his bed. “He figured out who I am.”

“And how did he do that?” Mycroft demanded.

“He noticed I didn’t have William’s scar… On my hip.”

“Why was John Watson looking at your hip?”

Sherlock curled into a tighter ball. “One thing led to another and…”

“You fucked him.”

“Please don’t say it like that.”

“If you kept it in your pants…”

“Stop it, Mycroft. I really liked him. I thought he liked me.”

“He liked William. He doesn’t know you.”

“He could get to know me…”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. All of London will know now that William died two months ago and an imposter has taken his place.” Mycroft growled into the phone.

“I’m sorry, Mycroft…” Sherlock moaned, sniffling as tears began to fall. “I’m sorry the wrong twin died…”

“Sherlock…”

Sherlock turned off the mobile and lay in bed, completely miserable and heart broken. It seemed no one wanted him.

^.~

Sherlock didn’t see John as he packed what little he needed. As he waited for the taxi to take him to the train station, he stared up at the building his brother had called home. Briefly he had believed it could be his own home. But that was foolish. The taxi pulled up and he got in, giving the driver instructions. No John stopped him. No one looked out the window at him and his departure. 

^.~

“William?” Mummy Holmes queried, looking at the son on her doorstep.

“You’re wrong, Mum… It’s me.”

“Who?” Mummy asked.

“It’s Sherlock.”

“Sherlock?” Immediately tears filled Mummy’s eyes and she wrapped her arms around her son. “Oh Sherlock… Sherlock! Why didn’t you…? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know… I didn’t know until the funeral when I realized it was William and… No one noticed! No one noticed that I lived. None of you said anything! None of you cared!”

“I was in shock, you stupid boy!” Mummy sobbed into Sherlock’s shoulder. “My Sherlock was dead! My baby boy…”

“Sherlock?” Da finally found his voice. “Is that really you?”

“It’s me.” Sherlock answered, reaching for his father. “I’m home.”

^.~

Mummy set a plate before Sherlock at the table. “Eat up!”

“Mum…” Sherlock sighed.

“You didn’t tell us right away… You eat up now.” Mummy moved to the other side of the kitchen, muttering about all the ways Sherlock had neglected himself while pretending to be William. “No one fed you while you were in London.”

“I had a lot of take away…” Sherlock admitted as he took a bite of his mum’s cooking.

“Take away!” Mummy turned around to glare at him. 

“Sorry, Mum…” Sherlock took a bite of food.

“We have to have another funeral…” Mummy sighed as she washed up some dishes. “Poor William…”

^.~

Sherlock stood, watching William’s friends. Lestrade, Molly, Mrs. Hudson, and John stood in silence, staring at the grave their friend had been buried in two months before. Molly quietly cried against Lestrade’s shoulder. The mortician had had a crush on William and she was devastated at his death. Lestrade stared at the grave stoically. John’s eyes flickered up and he caught Sherlock staring at him. Hastily he looked back down at the grave.

“Does anyone wish to say anything at this time?” The vicar asked.

The group was silent as they had been for Sherlock’s funeral two months before. 

Sherlock took a deep breath and cleared his throat. Immediately they all looked to him. “The most important thing to William was the work he did. I tried to fill the void he left because without him the work would end.” Sherlock rubbed the moisture from his eyes. “It was good work. And I’m sorry I couldn’t fill his shoes. They were too big for me… And because of that now a madman is on the loose in London and I… I…” Sherlock sniffled, rubbing his nose as he attempted to regain control of his emotions. “Out of the two of us… I wish he had lived. He was needed more. Goodbye, Will. I’m sorry I failed you. I’m sorry I failed everyone.” And with that he left the grave, returning to the cars. This time no one stopped him, not even Mycroft. The ride back to the house was in silence and he made his way to his former bedroom before the funeral guests arrived, determined to remain tucked out of the way. The reception was for those William left behind and he had no business being there since he failed his brother.

Less than an hour later voices filled the house downstairs as he lay miserable upon his bed. A few minutes later someone tapped on the door to the bedroom.

“Hello? Dear, it’s Mrs. Hudson. May I come in?” Mrs. Hudson called through the door. 

“Come in, Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock replied as he sat up on the bed and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Oh… This is a cozy room.” Mrs. Hudson commented as she opened the door and stepped inside. “Sherlock? Your mum directed me up here. I just wanted to check up on you.”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Hudson…” Sherlock replied without any sort of enthusiasm.

“You took your brother’s place back in January.”

“I’m sorry for fooling you…”

“No, dear… It’s just that… I should have known something had changed. He was never very good at cleaning up after himself.” Mrs. Hudson bit her lips.

“The flat was a mess…” Sherlock found himself chuckling softly.

“Since you took his place I’ve never once had to dust or vacuum… Or even do the dishes.”

“He was like that growing up with him too. His side of the room…”

“Dear… If you would like to return to London, you’re welcome to the flat.”

Tears filled Sherlock’s eyes as he stared at the kind, old woman. “Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it… Sherlock.” Smiling shyly at the use of his name she reached out and patted his shoulder. “You’re such a good boy.” 

Lestrade looked into the room and saw Mrs. Hudson patting Sherlock’s shoulder. “Oh! Sorry to interrupt.”

“No, no… I was just heading back down to the party.” Mrs. Hudson answered and left the room.

Lestrade stood near the doorway and watched her go before returning his attention to the man on the bed. “You know… You’re still a Holmes. Your deductive reasoning is still way ahead of all of us non-Holmeses.”

“What are you saying, Greg?”

“And that’s another thing…” Lestrade entered the room further to stand next to the bed. “William never could remember my name. It was always ‘Graham, George, Garret’ to him. You remember my name.”

“I’m sure he was just messing with you…” Sherlock commented.

“He was a bit of an arse, if you ask me.” Lestrade grinned and shook his head. “I’ll miss the bloody bastard.” Staring at his hands he gave a soft chuckle. “I heard what Mrs. Hudson said about offering you the flat. I would like to continue working with you.”

“But I’m horrible at deductions.” Sherlock complained.

Lestrade shrugged. “You’re still better than what I normally work with. Will you think about it?”

“I think some people might prefer that I stay away from London…” Sherlock remarked.

“Who?” Lestrade asked.

Sherlock shook his head. 

“Just think about it, Sherlock. I’d be happy to have you.” Lestrade reached out and patted Sherlock on the shoulder. “You have my number.” And then he was gone.

Sherlock sat at the edge of the bed, anticipating more company. But as the minutes passed he began to think John wouldn’t speak to him. Just as he was about to get up he heard footsteps and settled back down.

Molly looked into the room and smiled. “Hello. I suppose we should meet properly. I’m… Molly Hooper.” Holding out her hand, she smiled even though her eyes were rimmed with red from crying.

“How do you do, Molly? I’m William’s identical twin brother, Sherlock.”

“Sherlock… What an interesting name.” 

Sherlock smiled at her attempt at small talk. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Isn’t that my line?” Molly laughed nervously.

“I lost him two months ago.” Sherlock responded. 

“Of course…” Molly blushed as she stared down at her hands. 

“I hear you had a crush on my brother.”

“Who told you?” Molly blushed a deeper shade of red.

“You did… With how you acted around me when you thought I was him.”

“Oh…”

“My brother had no interest in anyone.” Sherlock stated quietly. “Asexual.”

“Are you…?”

“No… I’m gay.” Sherlock answered.

“Oh…” Molly bit her lips and blushed again. 

“But I’m happy to be your friend if you like.”

“I’d like that.” Molly smiled and nodded, the spark returning to her eyes. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Sherlock’s amusement at Molly’s reactions immediately faded into sadness.

“Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No…” Sherlock shook his head and tried to give her a reassuring smile. “It’s not your fault. I just… No. No, I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t have anyone. I’ve never really had anyone.”

“Well… Friends…” Molly offered.

“I’ve… Never really had any friends. My brother was the one everyone wanted to know.”

“Oh. Oh, Sherlock I’m so sorry.” Molly sat beside him on the bed. “Then, yes. I’d be happy to be your friend.”

“Thank you, Molly.” 

Molly smiled, blushing. “Are you coming back? To London, I mean…”

“Greg offered me work. Mrs. Hudson offered me a place to live.”

“So… Will you?” Molly tried to appear not too eager.

“There’s still John to consider.”

“Oh… Yeah. John…” The wind seemed to go out of Molly’s sails as she visibly deflated. “You had a falling out?”

“You could say that.” Sherlock answered. “I liked him. I really, really liked him. But I’m not my brother.”

“No… You’re not.” Molly confirmed.

“I suppose Mrs. Hudson would allow me to take the other flat… If it came to that.”

Molly shrugged and smiled. “You could take my spare room.”

“That’s really sweet. Thank you. But I don’t know yet.” 

“Take your time.” Molly reached out and held his hand in her own a moment before pulling away. “You’re a really nice guy. I’m glad we met. You don’t need to live in your brother’s shadow… Unless you want to.”

“Thank you, Molly.” Sherlock beamed at her as she made her way out of the room. When she was gone he let his smile fade and stared for a long time at the door. No one else came in.

^.~

A week went by and Sherlock found himself to be restlessly wandering the village where he grew up. Everything he used to do didn’t seem to satisfy him anymore. Another week passed and the texts from Lestrade started to show up on his mobile asking for help.

“I’m not my brother.” Sherlock told Lestrade when he called him.

“I’m not asking you to be your brother. But you have a skill many of us mortals lack. Will you come help?”

“I… I don’t know where I would live.” Sherlock admitted, looking around his cozy bedroom.

“What’s wrong with Baker Street?”

“That’s where John…” Sherlock bit his lips and stared at where the ceiling met the corner of the room.

“Why can’t you live with John?” Lestrade asked.

“It would be… Awkward.”

“Awkward in what way? It’s not like you shagged the man.”

Sherlock closed his eyes and tried not to think about what sort of things he had done to John in his dead brother’s bed.

“Oh God, Sherlock… You shagged John Watson?” Lestrade’s voice was incredulous. “No wonder he’s been funny lately.” 

“Don’t tell him I told you.”

“What? Are we in secondary? Why would I tell?”

“He won’t talk to me and… I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Alright, mate… You can borrow my couch until we find you a place of your own. Will you come?”

Sherlock followed the corner of the wall down to the floor. “Yeah… I’ll come. If you think I can be of any help.”

“Thank you so much!”

Sherlock didn’t really pay attention to the rest of Lestrade’s thanks, too lost in his own thoughts. 

^.~

“Sherlock, dear… How are you?” Mrs. Hudson greeted the man when she answered the door. “Have you come to stay?”

“That really depends, Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock answered, glancing up the staircase. “Is John still here?”

“Yes he is, poor thing. Your brother Mycroft has been keeping up with the rent as he always has.”

“Oh… The rent.”

“William never had a mind for the rent. Had Mycroft pay it for him… And a little extra for John’s portion.”

“I was thinking about letting that flat no one has taken.”

“That old, musty thing? The place you found the shoes?”

“Yes… Well… I have to live somewhere, haven’t I? I can’t stay on Greg’s sofa.”

“Is that where you’ve been these past few weeks? On the detective’s sofa?”

“Can I have the flat, Mrs. Hudson?”

“Will you be taking all of William’s old things, then? The furniture was his, bless his heart.”

“The furniture in John’s flat is all William’s?”

“Everything except the telly and John’s bedroom furniture.”

“What will John be left with?” Sherlock murmured.

“Go talk to him, Sherlock. I think he misses your brother.”

“Of course he does. Everyone misses my brother.” Sherlock sighed heavily.

“It’s not like that.” Mrs. Hudson responded. “The man he thought he knew turned out to be someone else.”

Sherlock sighed heavily again. “I’ll… Go up and see him.” And with that he climbed the stairs and knocked on the door. After a long moment the door swung open and John Watson stood, staring back at him. Butterflies fluttered in his belly and his cock became hard. “Hello.”

“Hello.” John responded, looking him up and down.

Sherlock held out his hand. “I’m Sherlock Holmes. You had a flat share with my identical twin brother, William Holmes.”

John frowned and nodded. “He died.”

“Yes… We were in a car accident. He didn’t make it… And I had amnesia.” 

“You really had amnesia?”

“Until the funeral when I realized who I really was.”

“And who are you?” John asked wearily, leaning against the door frame.

“Nobody seemed to care about Sherlock Holmes dying… But William was very important. My life as Sherlock meant nothing to anyone. So I stepped into William’s life.”

“You could have told me.”

“Told you what? Sorry… Your flat mate is dead and you weren’t invited to the funeral because they buried him with his identical twin brother’s name?” Sherlock made a face. “It was better to just take his place so his work could continue without interruption.”

“You could have told me.” John repeated, staring up at Sherlock.

“You look exhausted.”

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping.” John admitted and turned to return to his place in front of the telly. Evidence of his camping out on the couch were stacked up on the table. 

Sherlock entered the flat and shut the door behind him. “What are you watching?”

“Dr. Who… Ninth Doctor.” John answered.

Sherlock sat down beside him on the couch. “The episode with the game shows? Oh look! Naked Jack Harkness.” 

A smile briefly touched the corner of John’s lips. “You know Dr. Who?” 

“I had a thing for Donna Noble.” Sherlock answered.

“Your brother hated it.”

“I am not my brother.” Sherlock smirked.

John immediately frowned and stared at the telly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Is that a bad thing? You were with him for all of two months. He didn’t even tell you he was going home to celebrate his birthday.”

“Are you trying to make me feel bad?” John muttered.

“No… I’m just saying…” Sherlock lost his thoughts as he watched telly for a moment. “It’s like Dr. Who…”

“Oh God.” John rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Ninth Doctor and Rose. They were together for a season and then he regenerated to become Tenth Doctor.”

“You didn’t really just claim to be Tenth Doctor, did you?”

“In a way, yes. Rose fell for Tenth Doctor. Ninth Doctor was wrong for her, but Tenth… She ends up with the human copy of Ten.”

“This is insane…” John moaned. 

“I don’t know how else to explain it to you!” Sherlock responded.

“So you’re saying that William was wrong for me but you’re what I end up with?” John stared into Sherlock’s eyes.

Sherlock’s cock twitched in his pants. The intensity in John’s eyes made him shiver. With a little shake of his head, he returned his attention to the telly, taking deep breaths to settle his racing heart. “Or I’m just some second rate copy. You were obviously in love with my brother and there’s nothing I can do…”

“I wasn’t in love with your brother.” John chuckled. “He was gorgeous, I’ll admit that… But he was harsh and cold.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to desire my brother. People seem to go for his type.”

“His type? What are you talking about?” John turned to look at Sherlock.

“When I was at uni… I roomed with someone who had a thing for my brother. Although I didn’t know that until he started to moan his name whenever we… Well… When my mouth was full of him. Afterwards he always claimed he was joking.”

“That’s horrible. Moaned your brother’s name whenever you…?”

“Yeah.” Sherlock nodded. “We’re identical… Yet he was the cool, mysterious one everyone wanted a piece of… And he ignored them. The only time I’ve had anything was because they couldn’t have him.”

“Shit… I moaned his name when we…” John turned red.

“That’s alright. You didn’t know. And even when you moaned for him you still made an effort to get me off along with you.”

“And the guy at uni…?”

“He was nothing like you.”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was an imposter. I should have told you before I seduced you.”

“You didn’t seduce me.” John shifted on the couch, relaxing against the back. 

“I’m pretty sure I did.” Sherlock responded as he shifted to sit closer to John.

“You kissed me months ago and ever since then I’ve been wanting to get into your pants. If you hadn’t sucked me off at the pool I would have ambushed you back at the flat.”

“I… No…”

“You were jealous… You flirted with me. The only problem was I couldn’t figure out why ‘cold, harsh’ William wanted me when he made it clear that he didn’t have time for something as ordinary as sexual release. Suddenly he wanted to fuck my brains out and I couldn’t understand why. Now I know… It’s because William was actually Sherlock. Kind and compassionate Sherlock with a streak of jealousy whenever I went out with someone else because he wanted me all to himself. And when we got each other off he cried and thanked me when he ejaculated in my hand.”

Sherlock trembled at John’s words.

“You could have told me William was dead and that you took his place to keep the work going.”

“I’m sorry…” Sherlock breathed, leaning in closer and closer until their lips touched. Sherlock shivered in delight, his hand reaching up to cradle John’s stubble rough cheek. 

John stirred and pulled away. “Let me take a shower.”

“You don’t need to take a shower.” Sherlock replied, lightly kissing his lips.

“I really need to take a shower.” John pulled away. “I haven’t taken one in days. I need to shave, brush my teeth…”

“We’re not going on a date, John… Unless you want to.”

“Go to the bedroom and wait for me. Give me fifteen minutes.” John lightly kissed the top of Sherlock’s head and headed off to the bathroom.

Sherlock stayed where he was, listening to John’s sounds of washing up. Finally he got up and went into William’s bedroom. The bed was still as he had left it. There was an impression of a body that had disturbed the duvet. Quickly Sherlock removed his clothes, tossing them into the corner of the room. Eagerly he went through the drawer to find the lube he had placed there when he was still pretending to be William. Squirting out a generous amount he placed his foot on the bed and began to work first one finger and then two into his ass. Just as a third finger managed to wedge itself in the bedroom door opened and Sherlock looked back over his shoulder at John standing in the doorway wearing a robe with damp hair. 

John’s eyes lingered on where Sherlock’s fingers disappeared into his body. Finally he took a step into the room and then another, stepping up behind Sherlock. His lips grazed Sherlock’s shoulder as his hand slid down Sherlock’s arm to his hand and lubed fingers. 

Sherlock pulled his fingers out and used his hands to brace himself on the edge of the bed. 

“Lube…” John whispered, holding out his hand expectantly. 

Sherlock squirted a liberal amount into John’s hand, listening to the indecent sounds of fingers spreading lube onto themselves. Fingers pushed into him and he moaned, holding himself steady on the edge of the bed. 

John kissed Sherlock’s back, working first two and then three fingers into someplace tight and warm. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes…” Sherlock answered, pushing back against John’s hand. 

John skillfully rubbed a spot that caused Sherlock to cry out and squirm with delight. “Right there…”

Sherlock whimpered and pushed back against John. “Please, John.”

John kissed his back again and used his free hand to pat him on the bum. “Lay down.”

Sherlock immediately obeyed, stretching out, face down on the bed. John followed him down, his fingers still teasing and stretching his ass. 

“I meant on your back…” John chuckled softly as he pulled his fingers out and the sound of fabric falling on the floor followed. His warm body covered Sherlock as he pressed his chest to the brunette’s back. “I can’t see you.”

“Victor never…”

“Is that your ex-boyfriend’s name? Victor? Well… I’m not Victor. So don’t be moaning out his name or else I shall be annoyed.”

“I won’t call out his name.” Sherlock answered, looking over his shoulder at John pressed against his back. Somewhere down between his thighs he could feel John’s erection.

John smiled and used his clean hand to lightly touch Sherlock’s cheek. “Why do you want me, Sherlock?”

“The first time we met… You made something within me come alive. I wanted to know you… To be with you. I was completely terrified that I would be found out for the fake I am… But I gave it a chance so I could get to know you. William never told me how utterly amazing you are.”

“Will you roll over?” John pleaded as he kissed Sherlock’s shoulder. 

Sherlock started to move, pleased when John shifted to allow him to roll onto his back beneath him. “Better?”

John settled between Sherlock’s thighs, pressing his erection against Sherlock’s own. “Much better. As beautiful as your backside is… I couldn’t reach your lips.” A soft, gentle kiss followed.

Sherlock opened his knees wider and shifted his hips as if to draw attention to them.

“Slowly, Sherlock… Slowly. This is our first time.”

“Last time was our first time.”

“This is the first time for John and Sherlock. I want to savor it.”

“Savor later.” Sherlock wrapped his arms around John’s shoulders to pull him down into a filthy kiss.

John broke the kiss and panted for air, chuckling softly. “I swear that if I enter you right now I’m not going to last more than a couple of thrusts. Do you have any idea how insanely hot it was to walk in here, thinking we would do what we did before, and to see you prepare yourself to fuck me? I almost finished right then and there! You didn’t have just one timid finger probing yourself… Three! Three actively stretching yourself open so I could enter you… Shit.” John rested his forehead on Sherlock’s chest. “It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. You want me so badly…” 

“I can get in four fingers to prepare myself for my dildo…”

“Fuck… Sherlock…” John moaned, clinging to Sherlock’s body and moving his hips. “Stop… Let me calm down or else this is going to be very short.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Sherlock grinned impishly.

“Hush, you…” John replied, kissing his way down Sherlock’s body until he sat between the man’s thighs, looking down at him. A finger idly traced where on William’s body there had been a scar. “Right here… Only a couple of weeks after I met your brother… He was stabbed. He refused to go to A&E… Said I was a doctor and could fix it for him. He took off his trousers and pants right there and lay on the couch, no thought or concern that he was naked from the waist down.” John’s hand lightly touched Sherlock engorged cock. “He was flaccid. Not even a twitch. I numbed up the area and put six stitches into him. No reaction.” John’s hand wrapped around Sherlock, giving him a few gentle pumps. “I should have figured out that he had been replaced when you rubbed this leviathan against me.”

Sherlock smirked and opened his thighs wider. 

John reached down to touch himself, making sure the lube was still sufficient. Gently he pushed himself into place.

“You don’t have to be careful with me… My dildo is much bigger than you.”

John smirked and pushed in all the way until he was fully imbedded. “Like that?”

Sherlock wrapped his legs around John’s hips and pulled him in closer. “Perfect.”

John shook his head and began to move. “I don’t know how long I’ll last. It’s been a while since my last time.”

“Dare I ask how long?”

“Before Afghanistan.” 

“But you’ve had girlfriends…” 

“That doesn’t mean anything.” John answered as he gave a thrust. “You’re so tight.”

“Ok… Maybe my dildo is a little smaller than I said it was.”

John silenced the man with a kiss. They spent several long moments just concentrating on movements and the way they slid together. “Not going to last long…” John finally whimpered and bowed his head against Sherlock’s forehead, stealing his air as he groped for Sherlock’s cock, desperately attempting to drag the brunette along with him.

“Oh… John…” Sherlock moaned and bucked up against John’s movements, feeling John release in his bowels as he spurted into the blonde’s hand. 

“You’re incredible, Sherlock…” John moaned as he collapsed atop the taller man.

“Can I move back in?” Sherlock asked.

John started to giggle. “Is that what this was about? You wanted to move back in?”

“No… I saw you and I couldn’t help myself. You are amazing, John Watson.”

“In that case…” John pulled out and looked down at the mess they had made. “I think I can learn to live with Sherlock Holmes instead of William Holmes.”

“Good.” 

John used tissues to clean up the mess they made, tossing them into the waste basket. “Good…” His echo was delayed as he lay back down upon the bed, curled up against Sherlock’s side. “I think the first change we make in our rooming situation… Is that you share this bed, especially after we have sex. 

“I’m fine with that.” Sherlock answered. “In fact I wouldn’t mind sharing this bed even when we don’t have sex.” Wrapping his arm around John, he snuggled closer. 

“Great…” John agreed, yawning suddenly. “I am exhausted. I haven’t slept well since you moved out.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Sherlock answered.

John quickly fell into a doze. 

Sherlock stared up at the darkened ceiling, thinking of William. “I’ll take care of him, Will. He is amazing.” Snuggling against John’s warmth he fell asleep.

\--Fini

**Author's Note:**

> Nanowrimo starts next month! This was stuck in my head, otherwise I would be working on my serials "To Serve" and "As Changing As The Moon." Hopefully in the next 26 days I can post something for those so you aren't left without updates while I'm Nanowrimo-ing. (Is that even a word???) I have no idea what I'm going to write for Nanowrimo. This fic is 8047 words (about 1/6 of Nanowrimo). I'd be open to any one word suggestions in my comments.


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